


Don't Leave

by Aluxra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluxra/pseuds/Aluxra
Summary: Zenyatta watches over Hanzo while in recovery





	Don't Leave

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a prompt on tumblr: The way I said I love you; Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave
> 
> I didn't quite manage to write it the way I wanted to in my head, but I hope people still enjoy reading it. :)

Zenyatta hovered by the hospital bed, the beeping of the monitors next to him underscored by the ticking of the clock and the hiss of the oxygen mask covering Hanzo’s face. The golden orbs that usually hung dormant around his neck now circled around his head, occasionally ringing a series of notes meant to calm and focus the mind.

Zenyatta’s mind was calm, and focused; Hanzo’s recovery was the centre of his attention, the medical nanites repairing his body from the inside after being half crushed by a falling building in the fallout of Talon’s presence in Venice. McCree had made a comment that Venice had always been a favourite place to “spectacularly fuck a plan up”; Zenyatta did not know the details of the history the gunslinger had in Venice, but he understood that Genji knew what McCree was referencing, his theory confirmed when McCree muttered something unsavoury about his former commander from Blackwatch. Genji had calmed him with a touch to the arm, and McCree had fallen silent, though he looked no less sour about how the evening had gone and the memories they brought back.

They had left sometime after eleven, McCree encouraging Genji to sleep in a proper bed while Hanzo recovered, and Zenyatta had agreed. The faster everyone returned to better form, the faster they could regroup and plan their next move. Also, as much as he loved his student and friend, Genji’s worry for his brother amplified his own, inhibiting his concentration. If he did not do everything he could to help Hanzo in his own way, the guilt would crush him.

His orbs continued to chime, the clock continued to tick, and the monitors continued to beep steadily. He kept his mind blank, focusing on the orb of harmony, floating away from its brothers above Hanzo’s head, keeping his sleep peaceful. Jack’s biotic field had kept him stable on the journey back and Angela’s caduceus had undone the majority of the damage, but Hanzo’s arm had been smashed. The nanites were reforming the bone back in place, knitting it together, but it would take up to 48-hours to be complete. Then he would have to be reviewed for any muscular or nerve damage that they might have missed, and then he would have to follow a physiotherapy regime without deviation when he was strong enough.

Even with a perfect recovery, they would not have an archer on the field for several months.

Zenyatta clasped his hands tight in his lap, wringing them together as he tried to focus his meditation. A change in the monitors beeping drew his attention, confused, until Hanzo made a noise in his throat, his eyes fluttering open.

Zenyatta drew close, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder as Hanzo blinked rapidly, his mind working even through the sluggish drag back into wakefulness he likely forced himself through. His eyes fell on Zenyatta at the lightest touch through the hospital gown he wore, recognition relaxing his shoulders and letting him breathe.

“You’re in the medical bay at Watchpoint Gibraltar,” Zenyatta said, trying to keep himself composed. He hadn’t expected Hanzo to wake up so soon after his ordeal; he wondered if he should fetch Angela, if something had gone wrong.

“Water?” Hanzo muttered, slurring a little. He reached up with his left hand to try pulling off the NIV mask. Zenyatta caught his hand before he could remove it, gently pulling his hand away.

“You’re currently on an IV drip to maintain hydration,” Zenyatta explained, resting his hand back at his side, careful not to dislodge any of the electrode wires coiling out his sleeve or attached to his finger. “You are also receiving IV painkillers and some sedatives, I did not think you would be awake until morning.”

“I do not react favourably to sedatives,” Hanzo replied, though his eyes drooped heavily. His mind was still sharper than his body.

“Why can’t I move my arm?” he asked.

“It is in a cast, and it is strapped to your chest. You are moving your fingers, I see, but the painkillers will have numbed your arm, so you will feel strange for a while.”

“Why is my arm in a cast?”

Zenyatta paused. “Perhaps I should inform Angela you are awake, and she will be able to explain everything. I am no doctor, I fear I will cause undue concern with my explanation.”

“No, Zenyatta.” Hanzo’s hand shot out, grabbing the closest thing he could on Zenyatta’s person – his pants, at the knee – and gripping it tight. “Zenyatta.”

“You were injured,” he explained slowly. He lay his hand over Hanzo’s, stroking his fingers over his scraped knuckles soothingly, despite the churning of his insides as he recalled the moment in vivid detail. “You were caught… caught in a building that had become unstable and, and we… we pulled you out, and stabilised you. You’ve been kept sedated since then.”

“How long?”

“Eighteen hours, give or take.”

“I was trapped under a building.”

“Partially.”

“My arm is broken.”

“Yes, but we are using nanite technology to repair it.”

“I draw my bow with that arm.”

“Yes.”

“I am remarkably calm concerning this news.” Zenyatta lifted his eyes to the orb of harmony above his head, and Hanzo followed his gaze. He pondered it for a moment, before nodding. “Ah. Very well.”

He huffed a breath, closing his eyes as he released his grip on Zenyatta and sunk back against the pillow. “Does that mean you are required to watch over me all night?”

Zenyatta paused, looking down at his clasped hands. “I can leave the orb of harmony in your care, and leave, if you do not want me here.”

“Of course I want you here.” Hanzo cracked open one eye, his head rolling to the side to look up at Zenyatta. He reached out with his uninjured hand, and Zenyatta laced their fingers together, Hanzo’s skin warm against his metal shell. Hanzo smiled weakly behind the NIV, his eyelids drooping as sleep began to creep up on him again, his words beginning to slur and mumble. “I don’t want you to leave. You should sleep though.”

“I do not need to sleep, Hanzo.”

“Should sleep.”

“Very well, I will try.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Zenyatta said quietly, his voice box hiccupping as he held his hand tighter. “I won’t leave you. I love you dearly.”

Hanzo hummed, squeezing Zenyatta’s hand as his eyes fell closed. His breath deepened, succumbing to sleep. Zenyatta reached forward and brushed a lock of hair off his face, smiling when Hanzo turned towards the sensation, mumbling in his sleep. Zenyatta settled into the closest chair beside him, curling himself over the edge of the bed and lowering his head onto the quilt cover, keeping Hanzo’s hand clasped in his own as he rested by his side, until Angela found them like that the next morning. He still insisted he had not been asleep.


End file.
